


Sweetest Devotion

by Nekomata58919



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bottom Daryl Dixon, Daryl and Michonne are friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Sex, M/M, Past Rick Grimes/Michonne, Rating May Change, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Top Rick Grimes, no Michonne bashing here, no betas we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-08-20 09:23:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16553138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekomata58919/pseuds/Nekomata58919
Summary: Before the world went to hell, people were obsessed with finding their Soulmate. Finding the one who had a matching mark somewhere on their body that told you that you two were meant to be, well, it was something that anyone would want. It wasn’t your other half—even if media liked to portray it that way. No, it was a bond that lifted both people to be their best, most loving selves.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know I have two other fics going but after that last episode I had to start posting this. I mean, I started writing this a few months ago, so while some things from the show will be similar, I didn't feel like changing what I'd already written to be exactly the same. 
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy!

         Before the world went to hell, people were obsessed with finding their Soulmate. Finding the one who had a matching mark somewhere on their body that told you that you two were meant to be, well, it was something that anyone would want. It wasn’t your other half—even if media liked to portray it that way. No, it was a bond that lifted both people to be their best, most loving selves.

         There were studies done. Not only of the effects of the mark itself, but on children who were born to Soulmates. It was said those children were naturally more gifted, smarter, born leaders. Though most people tended to disagree. Still, the media loved stories about Soulmates going to great lengths to get together. It was romantic. The perfect romance. The perfect love.

         Except it wasn’t always possible to find one’s Soulmate. From living in different countries, one or both dying before they could find each other, or missed opportunities, too many factors could keep Soulmates apart. It was just a fact. With so many people in the world, and not everyone able to explore it. It just wasn’t always possible. Not that it deterred many from hoping. Hoping that they, too, could have that magical moment of finding The One.

         Of course, there _were_ those that decided waiting or searching wasn’t worth it. Or that maybe the marks meant nothing. People often chose to be with someone that wasn’t their Soulmate. They could lead happy, loving lives. Have wonderful children. Though it wasn’t surprising if one or both would wonder if being with their Soulmate would have been better.

         No matter how people viewed the marks, blessing or curse, Soulmate marks were important. They were one of the many pillars of society. After the apocalypse—as with most things—it was a different story. After all, how could one expect to find their Soulmate if the world was ending?

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl’s legs could barely keep him upright as he barreled down the hill onto the road.

         “Wait!”

         “Daryl, Michonne, stop!”

         Michonne skidded down beside him, her blade flashing as she slashed through walkers. Daryl sunk one knife into a walker that snapped at her leg, ducked, and stabbed another walker in the eye with his second knife.

         Carol and Maggie sprinted after them into the herd.

         “Rick!” Daryl yelled. He dodged a swipe from a walker. Daryl stabbed one and swung it into another, sending both to the ground to get trampled. Carol swore behind him, dispatching her own walker. Movement ahead caught Daryl’s attention. “Fuck. _Rick!_ ”

         Michonne was shouting now, too. Lopping off heads, left and right, she managed to clear a path. They ran on, but more walkers closed in on them. Still they could see Rick now.

         He was surrounded. Rick would stab one walker, shoot another, and still struggle to get away from the snapping jaws of four more. He kicked a walker back and stabbed it right between the eyes.

         Daryl pushed through a group.

         Rick looked up. His eyes widened. A grimace of pain crossed his features. He twisted and shoved his knife into the skull of a walker. A walker whose teeth were still clamped down on his arm.

         “No. NO!” Daryl surged forward. The walkers swarmed, and Rick disappeared.

         “Rick!” Michonne shouted, though Daryl could barely hear it over the thump of his heart. She and Daryl tried to get over to where he’d been, but the herd was too much. Carol and Maggie grabbed them and hauled them back. Out of the herd. To safety.

         “Lemme go!” Daryl struggled, trying to get back. Rick was still in there. Aaron moved in front of him, helping to keep him from running into the herd again.

         “It’s too dangerous,” Jesus told them.

         Only when the herd had moved on did they let him.

         Daryl stepped over the corpses, not caring about the blood splashing up onto his pants. He picked his way to where he’d seen Rick. There was no sign of him. Daryl looked around. How could he just be _gone?_ He ran in the direction the walkers had gone. Towards the bridge.

         Something glinted in the light of the setting sun.

         He dropped to his knees. Daryl picked up the colt python, the sound of Michonne’s sobs echoing in his ears.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         No matter what anyone said, Daryl couldn’t give up the thought that Rick was still out there. Maybe as a walker, but he was out there. And Daryl was determined to find him. He had to know.

         And then there was the matter of the helicopter. Daryl wasn’t the only one that had seen it as they headed back to Alexandria. Michonne, Maggie, and Jesus had spotted it as well. Anne had even admitted to seeing it several days prior. Daryl didn’t know who was piloting it, or where it came from, or even where it was going; but, his gut told him he needed to find out. That it was important.

         Daryl and Michonne had both tried chasing one they’d seen a few days later. Unfortunately, they’d lost sight of it pretty quickly. When they got back, Judith had been upset, not understanding why both of them had left and why her dad wasn’t coming back.

         They didn’t try again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Rick stared up at the white ceiling. Sunlight streamed through the large windows and spilled onto the blue hospital blanket draped over his legs. His head hurt and he felt groggy. Rick blinked slowly. Looking around, he noted the other hospital beds. Three of them. All empty. The TVs up by the ceiling were off, allowing him to hear distant, muffled conversation.

         Had it all been a dream? The walkers…the deaths… Had Rick been dreaming it all while in a coma? He didn’t know. It had felt real, but then why was he in a hospital, alive, after being bit by a walker? Rick looked down to see he was in a hospital gown, and his arms and legs were strapped to the bed. He could move them a little, but not very far.

         “Hello?” Rick croaked, trying to sit up. He cleared his throat and tried again, a little louder this time. “Nurse?”

         A few moments later the door squeaked open and a woman in a lab coat stepped inside. She was on the short side, with a bob of brunette hair. Rectangular glasses were perched on the end of her slightly upturned nose. “You’re awake!”

         Instead of answering, Rick watched as she approached, her flats barely making a sound on the tiled floor.

         “I was starting to worry, to be honest with you,” the woman said with a half-smile. “How are you feeling?”

         “Confused,” Rick replied. “Who are you? Where am I? How long have I been out?”

         “Ah, forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Dr. Phoebe Morrison, but you can call me Phoebe. I’m not really into formalities,” she said. “As for the other two questions: You’re in the Bellevue Hospital Center in New York, and you’ve been out for five days and twelve hours.”

         Rick’s eyes widened and his brows shot up his forehead. “New York?”

         Phoebe nodded. “Yes, I know, it was a bit of a distance, but this is where we’re stationed.”

         Shaking his head, Rick tried to sit again. “What the hell happened? Why am I here?” he demanded.

         “You don’t remember...” Phoebe sighed and pushed her glasses back up her nose. “You were bitten by a corpse. It’s a good thing we found you when we did. We’d been following the herd, sure that they’d attack someone eventually, and then we spotted you.”

         Rick’s mind was reeling. He remembered the herd, and he remembered being bitten. He’d tried to get away, and eventually he had managed to lose the walkers, but by then he was losing a lot of blood. After that… Nothing.

         “Of course, it’s still an experiment. After three days we knew it had worked though,” Phoebe said, having continued talking despite Rick having gotten distracted.

         “Wait, how am I not a walker?” Rick asked with a frown.

         “The injection we gave you,” Phoebe said, her tone suggesting she’d already said that. But her smile said she wasn’t too upset about repeating herself. “We’ve been testing the formula of the medicine on multiple people, but this is the first time it’s gone right.”

         Rick stared up at her. “You…found a cure?”

         Phoebe grinned. “It looks like we have! The beginnings of one at least. There’s still so much to test now that you’re awake. We had to be sure that—while you hadn’t turned—the injection hadn’t killed you either.” She unstrapped his arms and legs.

         “We?”

         “Yes, the other scientists here. There’s not many of us, hence why this has taken so long, but we’ve been here since nearly the start,” Phoebe explained. She pressed a button on the remote attached to the bed and it rose up so Rick could sit.

         Rick was honestly in shock. These people had found a cure. They’d cured him. He wasn’t going to turn.

         “Of course, now we need to test some other things. You’ll need to stay so we can do more tests,” Phoebe said.

         “What? No, I have to go back to my family,” Rick protested, shooting up out of bed. He grabbed Phoebe by the front of her coat. “They think I’m dead! You can’t keep me here!”

         Phoebe’s smile was apologetic. “I’m sorry, but you can’t. Not yet, anyway. We won’t keep you here forever, we’re not monsters. But we need to know if the medicine works for other people, or if it was only you. And if it’s only you, then we’ll need to take samples of your blood. We also need to keep an eye on you to see if you’ll continue to stay healthy, or if you’ll end up degrading over time.” She patted his hand sympathetically. “Think about it. If we can make sure this really works, we can cure so many people. When we bring you back home, we’d be able to cure your family.”

         Rick let her go. That was true. If the cure really worked… But how long would it take? Did it matter if it ultimately meant everyone would get the cure? Not that it really sounded like he much of a choice at the moment. Rick’s eyes closed and he took a breath. He nodded. “Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll stay.”


	2. Chapter 1

         “Daryl, wait up!” Michonne called, jogging over.

         Daryl slowed his motorcycle, stopping just before the front gates of Alexandria. “What?”

         Michonne set her hands on her hips. “I want to go with you. Scratch that, I need to go with you. You go out on your own too much and after the Whisperers...”

         She didn’t need to explain further. Daryl got it. “Hop on.” He waited for her to do so, and then he took off. Daryl glanced back at the walls only once. They’d be back in a day or two. Judith could handle it, she was eight, she understood now. Besides, once she got some cookies from Carol all would be forgiven.

         “I’m starting to think I should get a motorcycle myself,” Michonne commented. “I always wanted to learn to ride.”

         Daryl chuckled. “Why not? Ya’d be even more badass swingin’ that katana while ridin’ one of these.”

         “Exactly!” Michonne laughed. “You’ll have to teach me sometime.”

         “Sure.” Daryl swerved around the end of a fallen tree. Looking up, he frowned at the storm clouds rolling in. He hoped those waited until they were at the Kingdom. Daryl was never a fan of riding in the rain. One of the drawbacks of not having a helmet, he supposed.

         “Hey, what’s that?” Michonne taps his shoulder and points up and to the right.

         Daryl squints into the sky. And then he sees it. “It’s a helicopter!” They hadn’t seen one in months. Before he can really think about it, Daryl takes off after it.

         Michonne gripped around his waist, not having expected the sudden burst of speed. “Daryl! What are you doing?”

         “Chasin’ it, what else?” Daryl snapped. He swerved around a corner, keeping one eye on the helicopter.

         “What about the others? They won’t know we’ve gone after it,” Michonne reasoned.

         Daryl didn’t respond. He _needed_ to know where the helicopter was going. As he drove up and down a hill, Daryl almost lost sight of the helicopter behind the trees. Growling, he sped up. “Tell me if ya see it turn or anythin’.”

         “Alright,” Michonne agreed. Not that she had much choice in the matter. Jumping off the back of a motorcycle wasn’t exactly the best of ideas. “This better lead to something good.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         It was about two in the morning when Michonne made Daryl stop and rest.

         “I can keep goin’,” Daryl insisted. “We’re gonna lose it!”

         Michonne raised an eyebrow. “No, we won’t. That helicopter’s been going straight almost the entire time. A break is in order. For food and to go to the bathroom.”

         Daryl grumbled, but agreed to it. Besides, he had an idea of where they might be headed. They’d passed several signs for Philadelphia only thirty minutes ago. If they kept heading north, they’d end up in New York.

         They pulled off to the side and headed into the woods. They weren’t too overgrown. In fact most of the trees—tall, skinny birches—seemed almost evenly spaced apart. There were oaks here and there, and a ton of crooked old pines.

         As Michonne set up the temporary camp, Daryl went hunting. He hadn’t exactly planned this trip and so they hadn’t brought any food with them. So Daryl found them a raccoon. More than enough for a quick stop.

         “Found anything good?” Michonne asked as Daryl strolled over to the fire.

         Daryl held up the raccoon in lieu of an answer. He crouched down and began skinning it. The sharp intake of breath behind him made Daryl jump back up, knife at the ready.

         Michonne held up her hands. “Whoa! Relax, nothing’s wrong.”

         “Then what the hell were ya freakin’ out about?” Daryl asked with a scowl, settling down once more.

         There was a moment’s silence. Then, “Your shirt road up a little.” Michonne shifted on the log she sat on. “You’re Soulmate mark is on your back.”

         Daryl stiffened. “So?”

         “Nothing, just… I suppose I wondered where yours was. No-one’s ever seen it,” Michonne replied. She stretched her legs out in front of her and crossed her arms. “Yours is nice. I mean the wings suit you. Reminds me of that vest of yours a little.”

         They were sort of similar. However, the wings of his Soulmate mark spread across his lower back as though in flight. But they were marred by the longest scar on his back, and also a few smaller, fainter ones. Daryl shifted so that when he crouched again to cut the meat his back was hidden.

         “…Do you know who your Soulmate is?” Michonne asked. Her tone was careful. She was clearly worried about upsetting him.

         Daryl snorted. “Nah. An’ I ain’t ever gonna know. Prob’ly.” He skewered the meat on some sticks and set them over the fire Michonne had made. Daryl looked across it at her. “Don’t matter much, does it? I mean, ya had Rick.” His gaze dropped to the ground and he chewed on his lip. “You two were happy an’ ya weren’t Soulmates. An’ anyway, mine’s prob’ly dead.”

         Michonne opened and closed her mouth. Her gaze fell to the flickering flames. “You have a point. About not needing a Soulmate, I mean,” she said. “But since I found out Siddiq was mine, well, I can see what the fuss is about.”

         “Hm.” Daryl shrugged and settled on the ground. “Like I said, it don’t matter. I stopped thinkin’ ‘bout findin’ mine a long time ago. Before all this.”

         The dirt and red-orange pine needles crunched as Michonne stood and walked over to Daryl. She sat next to him, folding her legs under herself. “You sure? I’ve never seen you pursue anyone. Though I thought for sure you might have liked Carol.”

         Daryl’s nose scrunched. “No! Ugh, that’d be like datin’ my sister.” He plucked at a leaf in front of his boots, listening to Michonne’s musical laugh.

         “Sorry,” she said, grinning. “But you’ve really not had anyone catch your eye?”

         Of course he had. Daryl had crushed on Rick for the longest time. Since back at the Greene farm, if he was honest. Not that he’d let himself think too hard about it. Daryl had squashed those feelings down hard and fast. Rick had been married, even if things with Lori hadn’t been going well. But of course they’d bubbled up again at the prison. And again he didn’t let himself really feel them. Rick was straight. And even if he wasn’t, there was no way he’d want Daryl. So again he’d said nothing, and buried those feelings even further. “It’s the damn apocalypse. Ain’t got time fer romance an’ shit.”

         Michonne bumped his shoulder. “I disagree,” she replied. “I think it’s the best time. This world is too full of sadness and despair. Why not look for something good?”

         Daryl gave a humorless huff through his nose. “Sure.” Look for something good. That was all fine and dandy if you were someone who that worked for. Someone like Michonne or Rick or Carol or Maggie or Aaron… Not someone like him. Daryl removed the roasting meat from the fire and handed one of the sticks to Michonne. “Eat. We’re leavin’ in twenty minutes.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         They found the helicopter an hour later. It was little more than a black spot against cotton candy clouds as the sun rose fully, but Daryl was able to follow it easily. The highway they sped along was clear in many spots, but there were areas that were absolutely clogged with trashed cars and trucks. It got so bad at one point they had to get out and clear the way before Daryl could drive through. Luckily there had only be a couple of walkers to make things more challenging, and were easy enough to deal with.

         Then the helicopter finally turned, and Daryl had to make a sharp turn off an exit and down the curving ramp. Passing under a dark bridge echoing with the moans and growls of the dead made them lose sight of it for a few minutes, but soon Daryl was able to tail the helicopter again.

         “Where do you think it’s going?” Michonne asked as they traveled deeper into New York City.

         “Hell if I know. Never been up North b’fore,” Daryl replied. The city was even worse than Daryl remembered Atlanta being. With everything packed so close together and so many side streets and alleyways, it was a damn maze filled with walkers. “An’ it’s gonna get tricky. All these tall-ass buildings are makin’ it hard to see the ‘copter fer more’n a few minutes at a time.”

         The streets widened out until Daryl could see a sign telling him they were on 1st Ave. The helicopter was slowing down at an angle, so he knew they were close to wherever it was they were going. They passed an area of buildings that also was surrounded by trees, over sections of street that had once said SCHOOL, and drove right over what had once been an intersection so they could keep going straight. A few times he had to ride along the sidewalks, what with the number of vehicles clogging up the street.

         Daryl slowed, his bike rumbling as he idled. “A hospital.” Of course it would be to a hospital. He chewed on his lip, his grip on the handles of his bike tightened to the point his knuckles went white.

         Michonne tilted her head. “Bellevue,” she read, the large white letters spelling the name of the hospital up the side of the building. The whole front of the hospital was made of windows, and the entrance was blocked by a bunch of ambulances and junk to keep people or walkers from crawling underneath.

         “Let’s see ‘round back,” Daryl said. He backed up and turned down a small side street. Another possible entrance was blocked by more ambulances. And so was the back entrance. But not as well as the front.

         “Guess we’re going in the back,” Michonne pointed out a section they could slip through with a little bit of effort.

         Daryl nodded and found a space to hide his bike. They dropped to the ground and crawled under an ambulance near the end and out the other side, his crossbow making it a little more annoying for Daryl. Following along the covered walkway, they found the emergency entrance. And of course the doors were locked. “Shit. Think we should break it?”

         Michonne frowned, surveying the area. “I don’t know. We don’t know who these people are. If we just show up, smashing open a vulnerable section of their base… I don’t see them being very happy with us.”

         She had a point, but Daryl wasn’t sure he cared much. “Might be our only choice.”

         “Maybe. But I think I saw a section that would lead either to a parking garage or possibly a loading dock. That might be a better way in,” Michonne told him, turning and heading back they way they came.

         “Fine. But if it don’t work we’ll go this way,” Daryl agreed. He followed her around the buildings and they vaulted over a low concrete wall. They crept down the long, winding ramp and into what was definitely a loading dock. It was dark, the only light was what made it down from outside. From what could be seen, it was nearly empty, with only a single truck parked way off to the side.

         Michonne led the way up onto the platform and over to the metal door. Giving it a tug, she found it opened. “Jackpot.” Michonne grinned at him.

         Daryl snorted and went through first, holding his crossbow at the ready. The halls were long, mostly white with a single yellow stripe along the walls. Daryl would have thought the place abandoned had the lights not been working. Which meant whoever lived here had fixed the electricity.

         “Never been a fan of hospitals,” Michonne muttered, tapping the stripe with the tip of her katana.

         Daryl glanced at her, gave a quiet grunt of agreement, and led them down another turn. He spotted glass doors leading outside again, this time to what looked like a courtyard. Daryl jerked his head towards them and, getting a nod from Michonne, they passed through them. The walkway was covered by what looked to Daryl like a greenhouse roof. What had once been beautiful flowerbeds on either side were overgrown and weedy, the trees now wild.

         The doors to the next part of the building were unlocked. Daryl wondered if it was because they couldn’t lock them, the people living there were just that dumb, or if they had other defenses that meant they didn’t care if people got this far.

         Similar to the last ones, the halls were long and white, though this time the stripe along them was red. And then they passed into what had to have been the front entrance.

         The huge space was filled with sunlight, crisscrossed with shadows from the windows themselves. Looking up, there was a semicircle of balconies going all the way to the roof and spanning the length of the room. The other wall looked like the front of a very old building, with a grand stone archway. Daryl had never been anywhere like it, and he had to admit it was actually kind of nice. Like having the outdoors indoors.

         However, it was also a fantastic spot for a trap if he ever saw one.

         Daryl slunk back against the walls. Michonne slipped up beside him, just as quiet. His gaze flicked over every door and window he could see, over all the balconies, but the shadows made that particularly difficult.

         “Where do we even start?” Michonne whispered. “Just go to the second floor or keep checking the first?”

         “Second. This floor’s too quiet,” Daryl replied, gaze still darting every which way. “I don’t like it.”

         “Me neither.” Michonne pointed at a door near the back. “Think there might be stairs that way?”

         Daryl shrugged, and they made their way over, still keeping their backs to the walls.

         As it turned out, there were stairs beyond the door. After a hall of elevators. And while the lights were on in this building as well, Daryl didn’t want to chance the elevators. They climbed the flight of stairs to the second floor and entered into another set of halls. “Goddamned place’s full of halls,” he grumbled.

         “There’s also ten floors,” Michonne added. When Daryl gave her a questioning look she shrugged. “One of those elevator doors was stuck open. I snuck a peak inside.”

         Daryl growled. “Great. Gonna take fer fuckin’ ever to explore the whole place.”

         “I don’t think that will be a problem,” a new voice said.

         They whirled around.

         A short woman with glasses and wearing a lab coat stood in the doorway to another set of hallways. She smiled. “Welcome to Bellevue Hospital.”


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos everyone, I hope you are all continuing to enjoy this.

         Daryl had no hesitation in leveling his crossbow with the woman’s face. “Who the fuck are _you?”_ he growled.

         The woman held up her hands, her brows rising. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that? _You_ broke in here after all,” she said, amused.

         Before Daryl could go off, Michonne stepped in front of him. Though she hadn’t loosened the grip on her katana any. “We followed a helicopter here. We’ve been seeing it off and on for a long time. Figured we should probably find out where it came from.”

         “Ah, I see.” The woman adjusted her glasses. “I’m surprised that hasn’t happened sooner, to be honest. Anyway, my name is Dr. Morrison, but you can call me Phoebe. And you two are?”

         “I’m Michonne. This is Daryl,” Michonne answered for them. She glanced at Daryl and he lowered his crossbow, but didn’t put it away. “I know we broke in, but, we’re not looking for trouble. Just answers.”

         Dr. Morisson smiled, apparently all too ready to trust their word. “Of course! And I’d be happy to answer them. But not right here. Please, follow me.” She turned and headed back through the door.

         Daryl looked to Michonne, who shrugged, and they followed her.

         “So, when you said you’ve been seeing my helicopters for a while, how long are we talking?”

         “’bout six years, give’r take a few months,” Daryl replied. He glared at the floor. He didn’t like thinking that far back. Of course he _did_ , regularly, but still.

         “My, that is a long time,” Dr. Morrison said, twisting to look at them with wide eyes. “Where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking?”

         Michonne studied her, then the hallway they were walking through, before answering. “Virginia. We’re part of a much larger group.”

         Daryl supposed that answer worked. It was general enough, and held a bit of a warning that they had people who might come looking for them should they disappear for too long.

         “Huh! I’m not sure if that’s coincidence or pure luck, but we have someone here from Virginia,” Dr. Morrison said with a grin as she led them to an elevator. Once they were on she pressed a button for floor 9. “Maybe you’ll know each other.”

         “Ya been askin’ us questions, but I want ours answered,” Daryl growled. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, letting them out into yet another hallway. “Who are ya and what are ya doin’ here?”

         Dr. Morrison pushed open a set of double doors and led them into a section that held a nurses’ station. A few other people in lab coats flitted about, some talking among themselves, others clearly with work to do. She turned to them, beaming and undeterred by Daryl’s attitude. “I run this place. We’re scientists. Some are doctors that worked here Before. But all of us are working on _one_ thing: a cure.”

         “What?” Michonne gasped.

         Daryl was a little more skeptical. “Uh-huh. An’ just how far ya gettin’ with it?” He slung his crossbow over his shoulder, though his hand rested on the handle of one of his knives.

         Dr. Morrison clapped her hands together. “We’re actually almost done! I know, I know, probably hard to believe,” she said, holding her hands up. “But it’s true! Thanks to the testing we’ve been doing these past six years, we’re nearly finished. Unfortunately, there was only so much we could test with our volunteer. We need others for the final tests, and then, once we do, we can _finally_ start bringing the cure around the country!”

         Her enthusiasm was contagious. For Michonne at least, as she sheathed her katana. “That’s amazing! If that’s true...” She turned to Daryl. “Can you imagine? Everyone back home, they’d never have to worry about becoming walkers!”

         “Walkers,” Dr. Morrison said, a little laugh escaping. “You know, our volunteer calls them that too?”

         Daryl’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s yer volunteer?” he demanded.

         “Oh, right. Well I suppose if you stick around you’ll run into him eventually.” Dr. Morrison checked her watch. “Actually, you can see him now. Come on.”

         As they followed her again, Daryl tried to smash the little tingling of what felt like hope bubbling up in his chest. He couldn’t let himself hope. Not about the “cure” and not about who the volunteer was. It could be anybody after all. Just because they called those things walkers didn’t mean it was anyone they knew. Certainly not… Daryl shook his head. He glanced at Michonne out of the corner of his eyes. She looked like she was feeling similarly.

         Daryl spotted a sign letting them know they were entering the Day Room. Dr. Morrison opened the door, her head just barely blocking the little window in it, and let them go first. A figure stood by the windows, his back to them. But Daryl knew who it was. He would recognize those dark brown curls anywhere. _“Rick?”_

         “Oh god.” Michonne covered her mouth with her hands.

         Rick turned, eyes wide. He gave a little “oof” when Michonne practically tackled him in a hug. “Michonne!” He embraced her in return, and his eyes flicked to Daryl. “Daryl. You’re here?”

         “Yer alive,” Daryl croaked. Rick was alive. Rick was alive! The thought rang throughout his head like a bell.

         “You bastard!” Michonne cried, smacking his chest as she pulled back. “We thought you’d died!”

         And now Daryl was pissed too. And hurt. And all kinds of complicated emotions. “Six damn years! Ya let us fuckin’ believe you’ve been dead an’ what? Ya just sittin’ her on yer ass, cozy an’ alive!?” He paced. “Got halfa mind to shoot ya! Fuckin’ unbelievable!”

         Rick allowed them to hurl abuse and insults at him, his head tilted down and his eyes on the floor. He jumped when Daryl hugged him.

         “Stupid fuck. Hate ya sometimes,” Daryl growled, pulling away again.

         “I’m sorry,” Rick replied, looking at them both. “I am. It was shitty to do. But these people have a _cure._ ”

         Dr. Morrison finally stepped forward, only looking a little hesitant. “It’s true, what I said before. Rick was bitten, but we gave him the cure we’d been working on. And here he is! But we don’t have it completely finished yet. That’s why we had him stay.”

         Daryl whirled around, eyes flashing in fury. “For _six_ years!? Ya couldn’t do yer damned tests any faster!?” He stomped over to Dr. Morrison, getting in her face with a snarl. “Hell, couldn’t’ve just sent ‘im back and tested this so called cure on all of us?”

         “I-I understand you’re upset. You have every reason—”

         “ _Upset?_ Upset don’t _fuckin’_ cover it ya dumb bitch!” Daryl shouted, just barely keeping himself from burying his hunting knife right between her eyes. “SIX YEARS we all thought he was dead! His _daughter_ thinks he’s dead!”

         “Daryl,” Rick said with that tone. That tone he used to get Daryl to calm down. Except it wasn’t working this time.

         “NO!” Daryl whipped back around. If looks could kill, Rick would have been nothing more than a pile of ash in that moment. He breathed hard through his nose, nostrils flaring. With another growl, Daryl stormed from the room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Rick watched Daryl go, heart aching. He looked down at Michonne who was also glaring at him.

         “Don’t think that just because I’m not throwing a fit like Daryl that I’m any less mad,” she said, arms crossed.

         “I know. I’m sorry,” Rick apologized again.

         Dr. Morrison took a few steps back. “I’ll give you some time to yourselves,” she said, and slipped back out the door.

         Rick felt like shit. And he knew he deserved to, having put his family through this sort of thing. “I missed you. All of y’all. I’ll never be able to apologize enough, but please know I mean it. Just… I wanted the cure to be finished. So I could go back and share it with everyone.”

         Michonne sighed. “I understand why you stayed. I don’t agree with it, but I get it.” She shook her head. “Your hero complex is really irritating, you know that?”

         “I do.” Rick ran his fingers through his hair. He really was so happy to see them again. Being stuck in the hospital for six years had been lonely. Not that he hadn’t almost always been surrounded by the scientists or doctors, but it wasn’t the same. Rick ducked down, leaning forward to kiss Michonne.

         A hand pushed him back. Michonne stepped away. _“No._ No, you don’t get to do that, Rick.”

         “Michonne.” Rick frowned. He knew he fucked up, but he thought a kiss might show her how much he’d missed her.

         Michonne gave him a look of disbelief. “Really? I thought you were _dead,_ Rick. For six years,” she said, throwing her hands up. “I moved on.”

         Rick was sure he hadn’t heard her right. “...You what?”

         “Moved on,” Michonne repeated, her lower lip quivering. “I missed you so much. We saw you get bit and still I hoped. I waited for three years. Thinking maybe you’d stroll back through those gates and come back to us. Back to _me._ But you didn’t.” She wiped her eyes and turned away from him. “I found my Soulmate, and so I moved on.”

         “Who is it?”

         “ _Rick._ ”

         “Who. Is. It?”

         Michonne looked him in the eye. “Siddiq.”

         Rick felt like he’d been dowsed with ice cold water. “Siddiq.”

         “I got hurt during a fight, and when Siddiq was patching me up, I saw he had the same mark,” Michonne said, touching his arm.

         Rick looked at the Mark on the inside of her bicep. A spiral of vines with a rose in the center. His eyes locked with Michonne’s. It took a couple of tries to find his voice. “And you’re happy? He’s… He’s good to you?”

         Michonne nodded. “I am, and he is.” Her expression softened. “I don’t hate you, Rick. I still love you. But I’m not _in_ love with you. Not any more.”

         Rick swallowed and looked away. He rested his hands on his hips. “Okay.” Rick needed to focus on something else. “You said you got in a fight?”

         “Yes. You missed a lot while you were here, Rick. An entire war,” Michonne replied. “A group calling themselves the Whisperers showed up. Aaron lost an arm. Both Jesus and Ezekiel nearly died. A lot of us _did_ die. They could have destroyed us all.”

_Fuck._ Rick could have been there. Could have helped put an end to it. “Is Judith…?”

         “Judith is fine. Alive,” Michonne said. “Daryl’s taught her quite a bit. It helped.”

         Rick’s shoulders sagged. Judith was alive. If she’d died, he never would have forgiven himself. He wouldn’t have been able to keep going, knowing it was all his fault. He slumped into one of the many short, brown chairs. “Maggie? And Hershel? They’re okay?”

         Michonne sat beside him. “Yeah. Carol is too. It was mostly those originally from Oceanside and from The Kingdom. Some that were Saviors too.” She reached out and brushed her fingers through his hair. “We made it. We survived. Though we might not have done it without the help of a girl who changed sides. Her name is Lydia.”

         Nodding, Rick leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his hands hanging between his legs. “I am so, _so_ sorry. I should’ve been there.” How would he face everyone when he went back? Because he _was_ going back, even if they all hated him.

         “You should have,” Michonne agreed, rubbing his back. “But at least you were doing something. So I think eventually you’ll be forgiven.” She pulled her hand back to her lap and looked towards the door. “But I think right now we need to make sure Daryl isn’t killing everyone out there.”

         Rick grimaced. “Yeah. That would be bad.”

         Michonne laughed. “You don’t say.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         It turned out that Daryl had ended up going onto the roof to get some air. Phoebe explained to them he didn’t want to talk to anyone yet, and so Rick and Michonne had dinner in the cafeteria alone. Afterwords, Dr. Hawkins, a young woman with pixie cut black hair and eyes the color of charred wood, led them to their rooms. Michonne had accepted the one next to Rick’s.

         Michonne paused by her door. “Rick… There’s something else I need to tell you.”

         Rick nodded. “Okay.” He stepped aside and let Michonne into his room, flicking on the fluorescent light behind her. He couldn’t tell if it was something good or bad, based on her tone, just something serious. Rick watched her tap her foot against the tiles, thinking.

         “I don’t know if it’s really my place to say something, but I doubt the situation will get better if I don’t,” Michonne said.

         “Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Rick replied, hands on his hips. He had some ideas of what it might be, but he kind of hoped he was wrong.

         Michonne gestured to the bed. “You might want to sit. I don’t know how you’ll take this.”

         Huffing, Rick did so. “Okay?”

         “On our way here, I saw something,” Michonne started, stalling. She shook her head and looked him in the eye. “I saw Daryl’s Soulmate mark. A pair of spread, feathered wings on his lower back. Like yours.”

         The words hung in the air, both spoken and unspoken. Silence settled over them. The only sound the low hum of the lights.

         Rick stared up at Michonne. “Daryl is my Soulmate?”


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments everyone! ^_^

         Daryl hated being stared at. Especially when he was still mad. So Rick and Michonne shooting him looks throughout breakfast was seriously starting to piss him off. He could tell they wanted to say something, but both were apparently too chickenshit to actually say it.

         They were saved from being cussed out by Dr. Morrison showing up. She crossed the big white room to the little green table by one of the fat square pillars where they sat. “Good morning you three. I hope you all slept well,” she greeted with a smile that crinkled the corners of her hazel eyes.

         “Yes, thanks,” Michonne said for them, when it was clear neither Daryl or Rick were going to reply.

         “Good.” Dr. Morrison folded her fingers together. “There is something I’d like to discuss with you. I can wait if you’d like, but it is important.”

         Daryl shot her a look. “Just spit it out.”

         Dr. Morrison, ever patient, nodded. “Alright, well, I’d be very happy if either _you_ , Daryl, or you, Michonne, would help us with our final tests.”

         The three exchanged looks of surprise. Michonne frowned up at her. “What kind of tests?” she asked, the question a little drawn out and a lot suspicious.

         “I won’t make you, and I’ll be honest, they’re dangerous but...” Dr. Morrison pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “We saw that the injection worked after someone has been bitten. But what we haven’t been able to reliably test is if it works before someone is bitten,” she explained. “Of course, we’ve tested it on a couple of the scientists here, but with all the different tests and medicines they tried before, well, we need a control factor. To see if regular people who haven’t been taking a million different medicines will survive.”

         Daryl sneered. “So what, ya want us to take this “cure” and then let ourselves get _bit?_ ”

         “In simple terms, yes,” Dr. Morrison said. “And don’t worry, I don’t mean to send you outside and hope for the best. We have a couple of corpses contained in here. The minute we get a bite, it gets put down. We’re not looking for anyone to get maimed or killed. We need to test it to see how long after injection you can be bitten and have it still work.” She shifted and brushed her hands along the front of her coat, clearing it of nonexistent dirt. “We’re going to try it an hour after the injection. Should it still prove fatal, well… We’ll deal with that if it happens.”

         “That’s too risky—”

         “I’ll do it.”

         Rick turned his head so quick it was a surprise it didn’t snap right off. “ _What?_ ”

         Daryl shrugged. “I’ll do it. Worked fer you. Were willin’ to stay here for six years trustin’ these people an’ their cure.” He looked Rick in the eye. “Unless ya don’t think that no more?”

         Rick shook his head. “I do trust them, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a risk.”

         “Every day is damn risk, what else is new?” Daryl retorted. He stood, picking up the plate of food he’d barely touched, and tossed it in a nearby trashcan. “Let’s get this done.”

         “Oh, alright. Well we need to do a physical first. It shouldn’t take long, follow me,” Dr. Morrison replied, leading Daryl out of the cafeteria.

         “Whatever,” Daryl grunted. He’d never gotten a physical. Not in his memory anyway. Doctors were expensive, and there was no way in hell his Dad would have paid for that. Especially because doctors tended to be nosy. But Daryl figured whatever it was, it was best to just get it done and over with.

 

         Daryl ended up in a small office, waiting as Dr. Morrison went to find one of the other doctors. It was white, or off-white, like every other room in the place. No windows, though, and just two little florescent lights embedded in the ceiling. There were some pictures on the wall, of flowers and a mountain range, but it didn’t really help the room look inviting.

         The door swung open and a man stepped inside. He was tall, with nicely coiffed dark auburn hair, a golden tan, and deep oak eyes. “Hello, I’m Dr. Theo Paredes,” he said, holding out the hand not currently occupied with a clipboard.

         “Daryl.” He shook Dr. Paredes’ hand.

         Dr. Paredes smiled and gestured to the chair to the exam table. “Please sit. This is just going to be a routine physical, so it shouldn’t take too long.”

         Daryl didn’t reply, but he hopped up onto the table.

         Clicking open his pen, Dr. Parades sat in the chair in front of the desk. “So, Daryl, we’ll start with the usual questions,” he told him, crossing one leg over the other. “Do you drink?”

_“Tch,_ yeah,” Daryl said with a snort.

         “How often?” Dr. Paredes asked.

         Daryl shrugged. “Don’t know. Couple times a week?”

         Dr. Paredes’ eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

         “What?” Daryl demanded, lip curling in a snarl.

         “Nothing, just, your group must be well settled, if you’re able to drink at all, let alone that often,” Dr. Paredes replied as he made a note on his clipboard. He smiled charmingly again. “That’s a good thing. The being settled, not drinking that often. Anyway, next question. Do you smoke?”

         Daryl nodded.

         “Often?”

         Daryl nodded. At Dr. Paredes’ arched eyebrow, he sighed. “Almost every day.”

         Dr. Paredes noted it down. “Drugs?”

         “Hell no!” Daryl snapped. Did everyone have to assume he was a damn druggie?

         “Daryl, it’s a required question. I’m not making judgments, but if you were taking something we’d need to know. Wouldn’t want the medicine to mix badly with something and kill you,” Dr. Paredes soothed, smile calm and friendly. “Speaking of, do you take any medications? Or have any illnesses?”

         “No,” Daryl muttered with a shake of his head.

         “Okay then. That’s the end of the questions.” Dr. Paredes made another note and stood, pulling his stethoscope up from around his neck. “Please remove your shirt.”

         Daryl stiffened. Was that a normal part of a physical or was this jackass up to something? He didn’t know, but Daryl wasn’t going to take off his shirt in front of a stranger, that was for damn sure.

         Dr. Paredes noticed his reluctance. “I need to check your breathing.”

         “Can’t do that with my shirt on?” Daryl sneered.

         There was a moment of silence. “Daryl, have you ever had a physical done?”

         Daryl scoffed and looked away, his hair falling over his face.

         “Look, I promise you this is normal procedure. I’ve seen a lot of people. Naked. As I said before, there’s no judgment here,” Dr. Paredes said. He turned and pulled over some sort of basket thing Daryl didn’t know the name of and pulled out an arm cuff. “If you want, we can test blood pressure first and then check your breathing?”

         Sighing, Daryl nodded. If it was going to happen, he needed to prepare for it.

         “Good.” Dr. Paredes smiles again, showing off his nice white teeth. “Hold out your arm.” Daryl did so and Dr. Paredes wrapped the cuff around his bicep. He clipped a little device to his finger as well, then held onto Daryl’s arm. “Relax, please.”

         Daryl tried his best, but it was weird being so close to a stranger. He kept his gaze fixed on the wall over the other man’s shoulder. As Dr. Paredes squeezed the pump, the arm cuff tightened. While Daryl had certainly felt worse, it was still uncomfortable. The pump was released and the cuff loosened again.

         “Okay, good,” Dr. Paredes muttered, checking the thing on Daryl’s finger before making yet another couple of notes. Finished, he gave Daryl an expectant look.

         “Fine.” Daryl grabbed the ends of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. He hunched his shoulders and dropped his head forward, chin touching his chest.

         “Thank you,” Dr. Paredes said. The stethoscope pressed to his chest. “Please breathe normally.”

         Easier said than done. Daryl tried to keep his breathing normal, but now that he was thinking about it, he wasn’t sure if he was doing it right. That and having his shirt off was killing his nerves.

         “Good. Now deep breaths.”

         Daryl breathed in through his nose, and out through his mouth. After a couple of those, Dr. Paredes removed the stethoscope. And then the footsteps rounded the exam table. Stopped. The stethoscope returned, pressing against his back.

         “Normal breaths,” Dr. Paredes instructed. Then, “Deep breaths.” The stethoscope slid down Daryl’s back a little. The process repeated. “Okay, we’re done. You did very well, Daryl.”

         Daryl rolled his eyes and quickly pulled his shirt back on.

         “I didn’t realize you and Rick were Soulmates. I’m sorry he’s been here so long,” Dr. Paredes said as he scribbled down a few final notes.

         “Excuse me?”

         Dr. Paredes blinked at him. “I said I’m sorry he’s been here so long. You must have missed him a lot.”

         Daryl jumped down off the table, fists clenched. “Nah, not that. The first thing.”

         “...I didn’t realize you and Rick were Soulmates?” Dr. Paredes repeated, eyes flicking down to Daryl’s fists, then up to his glare.

         “That’s what I fuckin’ thought ya said. What makes ya think Rick an’ I are Soulmates, huh?” Daryl growled, getting up in Dr. Paredes’ face. It didn’t matter that the man had maybe three inches on him, Daryl could take him down easily.

         Dr. Paredes took a step back, though Daryl only followed. “The mark on your back. The wings? Rick has them too… Didn’t you know that?”

         Daryl shook his head. “Yer a lyin’ piece a shit!”

         “I’m not, I swear!” Dr. Paredes said, raising his hands defensively.

         And Daryl knew that. He could tell when people were bullshitting him, and Dr. Paredes definitely wasn’t. Daryl’s hands shook. Without a word, he turned and ran from the room, slamming the door behind him.

         “Daryl? Is everything okay?” Dr. Morrison asked as he stormed past her.

         Daryl could hear her following him. He needed to get out of these halls. “There a roof somewhere I can go to?”

         “Yes? If you go up to the top floor and take a left, at the very end are doors to one of the roofs,” Dr. Morrison replied, slowing to a stop.

         “Good.” Daryl left her behind and headed straight for the elevators.

         “Hey, there you are,” Michonne called from behind.

         Daryl sped up. Michonne was the last person he wanted to see right then. “Fuck off!” Daryl snarled, shooting her a glare over his shoulder. He pushed open a door and entered into the elevator bank.

         Michonne jogged after him. “What’s with the attitude?”

         Daryl whipped around. “What’s with the attitude?” he mocked. “Like ya don’t fuckin’ know! Couldn’t’ve told me Rick was my damn Soulmate!? Gotta learn that from some damn doctor!? Fuck you!” Daryl spat, jabbing his finger in her direction. “Or were ya never gonna say nothin’? Could’ve said somethin’ on our way here, but nah!”

         “Daryl, it’s not like that,” Michonne said with a frown.

         “Bull-fucking-shit!” Daryl decided he’d rather take the stairs. He threw open another set of doors.

         “I wanted to tell Rick first, that’s all.”

         The next door led to the stairwell and Daryl started running up them. “Ya best leave me alone ‘fore I shoot ya!” he shouted back, before Michonne got any bright ideas about following him.

         When Daryl finally made it to the roof, he breathed in the fresh air. It didn’t help. He found a spot among the planters for the rooftop garden and dropped to the ground. Daryl pulled out his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He lit one up and shoved it into his mouth. He leaned against the low brick wall and curled his legs up against his chest. Daryl blew smoke out around the cigarette. Ducking his head, he felt tears spilling down his cheeks.

_How could she keep that from me?_ Daryl thought, taking the cigarette from his mouth and pressing the smoldering end against his hand. He sniffled and thunked his head against the wall. He’d thought they were friends. That he could trust Michonne. Daryl burnt another circle into his hand. Of course she wouldn’t get it. She had her Soulmate. And Rick still loved her. Didn’t need to read minds to know that. Rick also knew about being Daryl’s Soulmate. Which meant he didn’t care. Not that Daryl blamed him, really. Hell, for all they knew she might drop Siddiq and get back with Rick. Even if she didn’t, Rick wouldn’t want him.

         Daryl took another drag from the cigarette. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to stop his tears.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone leaving comments and kudos! ^_^

         Rick still wasn’t sure how to take the news of Daryl being his Soulmate. Which was why he wasn’t all that surprised by Daryl’s reaction. Michonne had wanted to try and talk to him again, but Rick told her to wait a bit. Give Daryl time to calm down enough that he wouldn’t murder them both on sight.

         Sighing, Rick paced in the day room. _Why can nothing ever be simple?_ he wondered as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The whole Soulmate business had never been something he really put much stock into. After all he’d fallen in love with Lori. And then with Michonne. Rick frowned. He and Michonne had both agreed that Soulmates weren’t important, and that some silly mark on their skin couldn’t determine who they were meant to be with. But now she found hers and so… What? Had that all been a lie? Was he bound to keep losing those he loved?

         Rick shook his head and rested his hands on his hips. Michonne was in love with her Soulmate, and Rick hadn’t moved on. He hadn’t expected to need to. Though, considering he had been gone for six years and they all thought he was dead, maybe he should have expected it. This was in part his fault.

         And what about Daryl? Guilt twisted in Rick’s gut. While he wasn’t entirely sure what about the whole thing was upsetting him, the fact was that he _was_ upset. Rick was pretty sure some of it was still left over from Rick being gone for so long, but the rest, he didn’t know. He didn’t think it was because they were both men. After all, Daryl had never had a problem with Aaron and Eric or Jesus, and certainly not Tara and Denise. _So maybe it’s because it’s me._

         Rick huffed and rubbed his temples. That seemed more reasonable than the other options, but it still felt off. Not that he had any idea what to do about it. Rick cared for Daryl deeply, but he didn’t think he loved him. At least, not like that. Especially when he still had feelings for Michonne.

         The door squeaked as it swung open. “Hey?” Michonne greeted.

         “Hey,” Rick replied, trying to keep his troubled thoughts from influencing his tone.

         Michonne looked over her shoulder, then back at Rick. “You think we should check on Daryl yet? It’s been five hours.”

         “Yeah. I think we might get by with just a bolt to the leg,” Rick joked as he followed her out.

         “Someone’s feeling optimistic.” Michonne laughed softly.

         They made it up onto the roof without running into any of the doctors. Rick spotted a plume of smoke drifting up into the midnight blue sky as they approached.

         Daryl didn’t look at them, though he definitely heard them coming. Instead, he continued to glare out at the city, arms crossed.

         Michonne took careful steps closer. “Daryl?” When she didn’t get a response, she continued. “Daryl, I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but I never wanted to hurt you.”

         “ _Tch._ ” Daryl blew another puff of smoke and watched it drift.

         Rick stepped in. “Daryl, this is clearly something we need to talk about.”

         “So _now_ ya wanna talk?” Daryl turned. “Like _you_ didn’t know this mornin’ an’ decide to just send me fuckin’ pity looks all through breakfast. Well I don’t need yer damn pity, so you can shove it!” he snapped with a sharp gesture of his hand.

         Michonne glanced at Rick. “Wait inside. I want to talk to him alone.”

         Ignoring Daryl’s growled swears, Rick nodded and headed back. Having both of them there was just going to end up with Daryl feeling ganged up on.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl rolled his eyes and glared at Michonne. “What? Think I can’t handle both of ya here? Ain’t some damn kid.”

         “Then stop acting like one,” Michonne retorted, frowning. “Do you really think I’m trying to make you feel like shit?”

         “...No.” Daryl knew she wasn’t. That was so far away from something she’d do. But Daryl didn’t handle hurt well, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking it out on her.

         Michonne sighed. “What exactly about this has you so mad, then? I thought you’d be thrilled to know your Soulmate is alive. And right _here._ ”

         Irritation bubbled up in Daryl’s chest. “’Course you’d think that!”

         “What’s that supposed to mean?” Michonne set her hands on her hips.

         “Means ya got no damn idea what it’s like! To finally find out who yer Soulmate is, and to know they don’t want ya!” Daryl shouted, flinging his hands out aggressively. “Ya got yer Soulmate _an’_ Rick!” The sting of tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “Knew if I ever did find mine they wouldn’t want me. Didn’t think I’d ever have to go through it, though. Wish I didn’t know at all!”

         Michonne grabbed Daryl’s hands, startling him enough to get him to quiet. “Daryl, that’s not how it is,” she said, voice stern though her eyes were soft, understanding. “I told Rick I found out Siddiq is my Soulmate and that I’d moved on. We aren’t together.”

         Daryl stared at the ground. “Maybe _you_ moved on. But Rick hasn’t. An’ maybe he will eventually, but that don’t mean he’ll want me.” He stiffened at the feeling of Michonne wrapping her arms around him.

         “I’m sorry, Daryl,” she said. Michonne pulled back and shook her head. “You’re right, though, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling. But this isn’t easy for me either, you know?” She sighed. “While I’m not in love with Rick any more, I feel so guilty for moving on. You know we both said Soulmates weren’t our thing? And then I went and found mine. But I know what it feels like now, to be with your Soulmate, and knowing I’ve kept you from yours? Even unknowingly?” Michonne’s expression was pained.

         “Don’t.” Daryl finally looked her in the eye. “Ya ain’t got any reason to feel guilty. It ain’t yer fault. None of it. I had my chance to tell Rick how I felt, but I was too much of a coward to say anythin’. But ya ain’t gotta apologize.” He chewed on his bottom lip, then nodded to himself. Daryl shuffled closer and ducked down to hug Michonne. “’m sorry for bein’ an ass to ya.”

         Michonne gave a watery laugh. “It’s okay. I know not to take it personally.”

         Daryl snorted and stepped back. He breathed in the cool night air. “I’ll get over it. I lived this long without a Soulmate, so it’s not like I’m gonna drop dead now.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Rick had to admit he was relieved when Daryl and Michonne both showed up unharmed and looking more relaxed. Michonne sent him a small, uncomfortable smile as Daryl walked past. There were still things that needed to be solved. Rick wanted to speak to Daryl in private, they needed that, but Daryl would need to calm down further first.

         The three made their way back to the ninth floor, where Phoebe was waiting for them.

         “Oh good, I was starting to worry something bad had happened,” she sighed, smiling. “Everything has been worked out, I hope?”

         "Yep,” Daryl answered for them. “How soon can we do that test of yers?”

         Rick frowned. “You still want to do that?”

         “Who else will? Already got tested an’ shit. Might as well,” Daryl replied, crossing his arms.

         He had a point, but that didn’t mean Rick felt comfortable with it. He did trust the doctors and scientists, but that didn’t mean something couldn’t go wrong.

         “Well,” Phoebe said, clasping her hands together, “I believe we could do it as soon as you’re physical results have been recorded. It would also be good for you to get a full night’s sleep. So we’ll schedule it for…ten tomorrow morning?”

         Daryl nodded. “Fine. Tomorrow it is.”

         Phoebe’s hesitant gaze slid to Michonne. “After testing Daryl, we’d also like you to go through with the test. Dr. Hawkins and Dr. Price and I discussed it, and we should test to see if it works differently for women.”

         “Is that really necessary?” Rick asked, worry leaking into his voice.

         “Yes, it is,” Michonne answered, hands on her hips. “What if what they’ve made only works on men? Or if women get some kind of side effect? Better to test it now, then deal with the fallout later.”

         “Exactly,” Phoebe agreed. “I got Dr. Price to agree to only do the test on Michonne if Daryl…survives. If things were to go wrong, we wouldn’t want to risk anyone else.”

         “Makes sense to me,” Daryl said. He looked at Rick. “If we wanna get this cure to everyone back home, then we gotta make sure it’s safe an’ actually works.”

         Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew that, he agreed, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. Besides, it wasn’t really his decision to make. “I understand. Just, be careful.”

 

         Later found Rick pacing outside of Daryl’s room. He didn’t really know what to say, now that he was there. It was unusual and stressful to not have all the answers. To not be able to help one of his closest friends. Especially since he could possibly die the next day. Rick knocked.

         The door opened and Daryl peered out. “Rick? What’re you doin’ here?”

         Rick cleared his throat, having suddenly found it dry. “I thought we should talk.”

         “’M supposed to be restin’.” Daryl chewed on his bottom lip. “Okay.” He stepped aside to let Rick into his room.

         It wasn’t all that different than the one Rick stayed in. The main difference was that it had only one bed and the curtains were drawn. Daryl stood in the middle, arms crossed so that his hands were tucked under his armpits and his thumbs stuck out.

         “I was surprised too… When Michonne told me,” Rick said after a moment. “To be honest, I’m still not sure how to feel about it.”

         Daryl didn’t look at him. He shifted from foot to foot and remained silent.

         Rick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know what happened with Lori and Shane. It just feels like that all over again, but worse.” Daryl’s head snapped up and he winced. “Not like that! Just that, Michonne and I weren’t arguing before. We weren’t growing apart, like Lori and me. But now she’s with someone else while everyone thought I was dead. _That’s_ what I mean.”

         Daryl gave a single, tiny nod. “Well, don’t worry ‘bout me makin’ things more complicated. Ain’t gonna force ya to be with me just ‘cause of some dumb mark.” He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Just wasn’t somethin’ I ever expected, ya know?”

         “Daryl...” Rick walked closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. He squeezed it gently. Honestly, Rick didn’t know what else to say. His feelings were all over the place and it was all just a lot all at once. “Let’s just focus on this cure, first. We have a chance to save everybody, I think relationship drama can wait?”

         That seemed to work alright. Daryl gave a little huff of amusement. “Yeah.” He finally, properly looked at Rick. “It’s just such a relief yer alive. ‘M just grateful fer that, whatever happens.”

         “You say that like you expect the worst,” Rick said with a frown. “If you don’t want to do the test, you don’t have to.”

         A shrug. “Someone’s gotta. If it means everyone survives all this? That Judith might get to live a normal life? It’ll be worth it,” Daryl replied.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, it's been a while since I worked on this one. I wanted to finish one of the other fics I'd started so I could put more focus on this one. Hopefully you all aren't too mad at me, lol. Also, thank you to everyone who still left kudos and comments on this during the wait. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

         Their footsteps echoed off the walls of the narrow hallways. It didn’t matter how many times Daryl told himself it was for the good of everyone, or that these people knew what they were doing, and kept a brave face, he was still nervous. Scared. Daryl wouldn’t admit it, but it was true. If this didn’t work, he would die. Though part of him figured maybe it would be for the best, it didn’t make it easier.

         Dr. Morrison led them into an area of the hospital they hadn’t been too before. The wide hallways had two doors. One was labeled for a bathroom, the other was a mystery. Until she led them through that one as well. Inside was a small room, with a huge window looking into what had once been the operating room.

         “Alright, here’s how it’ll work,” Dr. Morrison said. “Daryl, you’ll go inside and wait. Dr. Hawkins and Dr. Buckner will bring in the subject and keep it controlled. Once it bites you, it will be killed. We’ll try to keep damage to a minimum.”

         “Sure,” Daryl grunted. “Anythin’ I need to do, or just stand there?”

         “Just staying still would be best,” Dr. Morrison replied.

         Daryl nodded. Before he could make it to the door, however, Michonne pulled him into a hug.

         “You’ll do fine,” she said. It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself, than state the facts. Michonne stepped back and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’ll work. I know it.”

         “Yeah. ‘course it will,” Daryl agreed. His eyes caught Rick’s, then he walked through the door into the OR. The door was shut and locked behind him. He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to calm himself. If he did die, he wanted to go with some dignity at least.

         “Bring it in,” Dr. Morrison said over the intercom.

         The other doors to the room opened and the two doctors entered the room, a walker between them. It’s arms had been removed and it had one of those collars around it’s neck that attached to a pole. Dr. Hawkins kept it steady while Dr. Buckner kept a pistol trained on it.

         Now that he was face-to-face with the snarling walker, spittle and blood flying from its mouth, Daryl knew there was no backing out. Not that he would have, he wasn’t a coward and this was important.

         “Just hold out your arm, please,” Dr. Hawkins said.

         Daryl took a breath, then did as he was told. The walker was inched closer. Closer. It lunged, clamping it’s jaws around Daryl’s forearm and sinking its teeth into his skin. He grit his teeth, keeping the cry of pain back in his throat. Blood pooled out from between its non-existent lips.

         Dr. Buckner pulled the trigger.

         The walker slumped, releasing Daryl. He took several steps back, and winced as he looked down at his bloody arm. “Shit.”

         “Stay right there, we’ll clean that up,” Dr. Buckner instructed, hurrying over to one of the tables. He set the pistol down and grabbed some disinfectant and bandages. They’d clearly prepared in advance. Dr. Buckner cleaned the wound and wrapped it up. “There.”

         Daryl grunted his thanks and looked at the window where Rick, Michonne, and Dr. Morrison were watching. Rick looked especially stressed.

         “It went well, I think,” Dr. Morrison said over the intercom. “Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait in there until we’re sure the cure worked.”

         “Figured as much,” Daryl said, sitting on the operating table. “How long you think it’ll be?”

         “I’d say we give it two days,” Dr. Morrison replied. She paused. “Thank you for volunteering, by the way. I know this was a difficult thing to agree to.”

         Daryl shrugged. Difficult wasn’t exactly the right word. Complicated, was more like it. He still hoped he had made the right decision.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Rick couldn’t stop worrying as he and Michonne followed Phoebe to the observation room. They would find out later that day if Daryl would make it, and if the cure was truly a success. It had to be. If it failed… Rick couldn’t think like that. It couldn’t fail. If he lost Daryl, Rick didn’t know what he would do.

         “So, after I take this test, that will be it?” Michonne asked. She’d been trying to stay positive the whole time, but Rick knew she was just as concerned as he was.

         “Yes and no,” Phoebe said.

         Rick frowned. “What does that mean?”

         “It means, we’ll know that it stops the bite infection. Specifically, whatever bacteria is spread by the corpses—walkers—when they bite or scratch someone,” Phoebe explained. She sighed. “Unfortunately, we won’t know if it will stop people from turning if they die from any other causes. That is something we haven’t been able to test.”

         Alarmed, Rick and Michonne exchanged a look. “I hope you aren’t saying you plan on testing that on us,” Rick said. If that was where this was headed, he was fully prepared to kill anybody who tried to kill them.

         Phoebe stopped in her path and turned to them with wide eyes. “Of course not! We’re trying to prevent more unnecessary deaths, not cause more,” she protested. “That’s why we haven’t tested it. It’s not something we _can_ test. Not easily.”

         “Then what will you do once this test is complete?” Michonne crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

         “We’ll bring the cure to your community,” Phoebe replied with a small smile. “We’ll make enough for everyone, hopefully, and then distribute it. However, that means you’ll be under observation. Two of us will stay with you and see how it works out. That will also give us a chance to see if it works no matter the manner of death—not that we’ll kill people, and we’ll help keep someone alive if we can! Just that if someone were to die, say of old age, then we could record what happens.”

         Rick was both relieved and a little uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure how he or the others would react to essentially becoming lab rats, but if it was for the good of everyone, it would be for the best. How much everyone else would agree to that thought was another thing entirely. However, none of it would matter if Daryl died.

         They entered the observation room and Rick immediately hurried to the window. Daryl was sitting on the operating table again, reading a book one of the doctors had brought him. He looked okay. Actually, he looked as good as ever. Considering most people would have been sweating and delirious by this point after being bit, if not dead, Rick couldn’t help but be hopeful.

         “Hey, Daryl. How are you feeling?” Phoebe asked into the mic.

         “Fine. The same as usual,” Daryl replied, setting his book aside. “How much longer?”

         Phoebe checked her watch. “Three more hours.” At Daryl’s annoyed grimace, she smiled sympathetically. “I know, it’s frustrating, but we just want to be absolutely sure.”

         Daryl grumbled and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

         Rick felt similarly. But he also agreed with Phoebe. It was better to know for sure, than celebrate early and be wrong.

         “Michonne, ya there?” Daryl asked suddenly.

         Michonne got a nod from Phoebe and she leaned over the mic. “I’m here.”

         Daryl smirked. “Just think: soon yer gonna get to enjoy sittin’ in here fer two days.”

         That startled a laugh from Michonne, and Rick couldn’t help but chuckle as well.

         “Looking forward to it,” Michonne replied, smiling.

 

         And so they waited. And waited. Rick couldn’t keep from pacing the entire time, watching Daryl through the window as he did. Then, finally, the three hour mark was up. Phoebe opened the door and let Daryl out.

         He was okay.

         The cure worked, and Daryl was alive.

         Rick was there in seconds, wrapping Daryl in an embrace. “Thank god,” he sighed into his hair.

         “Thought you trusted the thing to work,” Daryl said, ducking his head into Rick’s neck.

         “I did. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t also prepared for the worst,” Rick replied, letting go and stepping back. Michonne quickly replaced him, yanking Daryl down into a hug of her own. Daryl patted her awkwardly on the back, but he seemed happy enough.

         Phoebe smiled at them. “Why don’t you all have the rest of the day to yourselves? This was a huge success! We can discuss the next test tomorrow.”

         “So soon?” Rick asked. He wasn’t sure he could handle that sort of anxiety again so quickly.

         Michonne shook her head. “It’s fine, Rick. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can all go home.” She reached out and squeezed his arm. “If it went this well for Daryl, I’m sure it’ll go just as well for me.”

         “You’re right,” Rick agreed. If it was said enough times, he hoped it would be true.

         “Maybe we should do somethin’ to take our minds off it,” Daryl suggested. “There’s gotta be somethin’ to do ‘round here, right? Ya didn’t just sit here twiddlin’ yer damn thumbs fer six years.”

         Rick grimaced. “There’s not a lot to do, actually. Unless you enjoy reading or playing cards. I suppose we could always go up onto the roof? They have gardens up there. I worked on them occasionally.”

         “Sounds like it was just a real party here,” Daryl said, rolling his eyes.

         “Well, most of my time was spent having my blood taken and sampled, so...” Rick trailed off with a shrug. “We can’t go outside, Michonne hasn’t been given the cure. And it wouldn’t help us if we got torn into by a horde.”

         “Cards it is, then,” Daryl replied. He looked at Michonne. “Good with you?”

         “Sure. We can make it fun,” Michonne said with a smirk. “I’m sure we can come up with something to bet on.”

         Rick laughed. “Great. Now I’m thinking I shouldn’t have suggested that.”

         Michonne huffed. “Now why would you be worried?”

         “’cause I’m gonna wipe the floor with both of ya,” Daryl said.

         “That right?” Michonne asked, brow arched.

         “Yep.”


End file.
